My name is
by Uecaeli
Summary: When what you once considered 'lost' becomes 'found' in the most outstanding and innocent of accidents. A child and the Guardian that didn't know he was. • Just a cute one-shot, enjoy!


"_You would not believe me if I told you."_

"_Yes I would."_

In a childs mind there were times when the world of make believe and the walls of reality were all just one, big blurred line where nothing was quite what it was supposed to be. For young Sasha Tyball it was just another day, the sun woke up and told her it was time to play, momma had breakfast ready and daddy had taken the train to the big city. Outside it was warm and the sidewalk was full of adventure as she joined her best friend Jenna on a quest to find the bug Queen of Catyarn- all in all? Normal.

It was not until it was time for the sun to go to sleep and her tummy was full that Sasha shimmied out from under the covers and climbed the bookshelf to look out the window. She didn't know what gave her the idea, only that it sounded like a good one, and when she got to the top she could see _everything_. Yeah she'd looked out windows before, but not hers, they were too high and momma always yelled when she tried. Tonight though daddy had come home and swept momma away to who knows where, leaving the smelly Bridgette in the front room playing pretend as she talked on the phone to her boyfriend.

Sasha couldn't help but feel brave that she'd climbed all that way, glancing down and thinking that Jenna would be so jealous when she told! But outside, that was way more interesting! It was getting dark and Sasha was enthralled as she watched the big sky get darker and darker, the nothingness stretching down and seeping into the brightness. It was almost scary because it looked like the dark was eating the light and Sasha didn't understand it, she liked the light so why was the dark being mean?

But then there they were, all these little lights, they just _appeared_ out of nowhere. Sasha gasped and jumped up and down as hundreds and hundreds (because there had to be!) of little balls of light just fell out of the sky. She didn't know what they were and it kind of scared her, more than the mean dark, but at the same time she couldn't stop bouncing. It was so exciting!

She couldn't help this weird tingling feeling in her chest every time one of the lights disappeared before hitting the ground. It kind of felt like that time when momma came home crying but wouldn't tell why, she just cried and cried and cried and even daddy couldn't make the tears stop. That was a scary day, scary and confusing and Sasha hated it even now- watching as more and more of the little meteors winked out. It was so sad… and it made her lips tremble and her eyes burn with that watery feeling she got whenever she didn't get her way.

Before long it was over, the sparks of light were all gone and the sky was full of blackness and stars. Sasha stayed on the bookshelf for a few minutes more, neck craning just in case anything else decided to fall out of the sky. But before long she was tired and knew that momma and daddy would be home soon, they'd come in and see her on the bookshelf, then she'd really be in trouble. So she climbed down and crawled back into bed, snuggling down with the thought of a million tiny suns just… exploding in the sky.

* * *

"Why are you sitting there."

The dark haired man started and looked up to see the speaker, just a girl. Such a little girl.

"Because I have no where else to go." She screwed up her face like she wasn't satisfied with that answer, a face that said 'that's not true!' and he gave her what bit of a smile he could.

"Nuh uh, my momma says that _everyone_ has a place to go,"

"You're mother is right, but my house is locked, I cannot go home."

Again she seemed dissatisfied and he found it hard not to snap. Known for his patience he couldn't help the iron grip that grief had on his heart, squeezing and squeezing and making it nearly impossible to think straight. There was no room for anything else, only anger and an irrevocable fear at what recent events could possibly entail, kindness and courtesy were forgotten lessons.

"Everyone can go home, don't you have windows?" He looked at her and she stood with her arms crossed, her little hips cocked and her nostrils flared. A fiery thing that looked completely unconvinced, much like human children were prone.

"No, there are no windows to my house."

"Well that's stupid." She deadpans and he cannot quell the uprising of distress in his face "Marty says his mom and dad lock him out all the time cause he's stupid, and is always late. But he crawls in the bathroom window cause he says his parents are stupid too and can't figure out which one he's getting in through."

Logic would dictate that the adults lock any window that could possibly stand as a path of entry, but at the same time he was trying to wrap his mind around the idea of parents locking their children out to start with. Humans did things like that? What a cruel notion! And it did naught but add to the fire burning steadily in his gut. "Why would they do such a thing?" He asks, honestly concerned and he's confused by the look it garners.

"Cause he's late! I already said that!" This time she throws her arms up, feigning exasperation and his lips twitch toward a frown.

"He's _always _late so he crawls in the window, so whoever built your house is gotta be stupid because they forgot the windows! How are you supposed to crawl in when your parents lock you out?"

That did not aide in comforting the fact that human adults would do such things to their children, yet at the same time he was quickly coming to realize that this little girl didn't know that. She saw and heard only what she was told by this only child and was led to believe that such practices were acceptable. The chances of her doing similar acts of negligence were equally as high the longer that such irresponsibility was allowed to go unchecked. Perhaps he had discovered a way to expel some of the excess anger driving laps through his bloodstream.

No, no that would not do… "I- I do not know why my father did not build windows, I am sorry." and he meant it, truly.

She stood there for a long time then, just staring at him and it was minutely uncomfortable, but he suffered it.

"What happened to your wings?"

"What?" He stood his shock was so great, so unexpected and the little girl shrank back in surprise, clearly having not expected such a reaction. There was fury and curiosity conflicting in his green gaze and he could see the struggle it took for the young thing to straighten back out and shakily lift a finger to point.

"Y-your wings, they're broken."

"How can you know that?"

Curiosity like he had never felt before burned so brilliantly in his chest that he staggered, grasping out for the swing chain in support. The little girl looked genuinely frightened but unwilling to give up her stance, holding her ground, he watched her swallow.

"Right there" she points, gesturing toward his back and he catches himself glancing behind to see, blanching "Momma says that- she says that angels have wings, are- are you an angel?"

So innocent and frail, this little human child. One moment she was accusing his father of being 'stupid' for not opening windows to heaven and the next she was babbling about his lost wings and asking about his grace. She could not have really know what it was she said, no entity other than those made of heaven and hell could have knowledge of his roots, especially a weak, human infant. But there she stood, resolute and scared but determined all the same.

"You would not believe me if I told you."

"Yes I would." she retorts, stubbornly.

"What is your name?" He asks.

She does not respond so quickly then, instead she retreats back into what looks like a little shell, eyeing him from beneath shadowed eyelashes with a glance of distrust. So fast these humans changed their emotions! It was a wonder that they were constantly at war with one another, never able to predict the honest feelings of one or the other.

She sniffs a moment and he twists his head just so.

"My momma told me I shouldn't tell people my name," she glances left and then right before whispering conspiratorially "But my name's Sasha, what's yours?" a smile and he's confused yet again.

Should she not have revealed her identity if it was her mother's wish that she keep it hidden? This child, made absolutely no sense to him.

"My name is Ezekiel" He loosens his fist for he had not realized he'd clenched it, "It is nice to meet you Sasha."

"Yeah? Nice to meet you to!"

Sasha bounces up to the man and sticks out her hand, like daddy does, and doesn't not stop until the strange man named Ezekiel takes it. Then she smiles and never stops.

* * *

**Note**: Just a cute little idea that came to mind; like what if Ezekiel wasn't actually dead? But simply impaired in a way that he couldn't reach his brothers and sisters? And what if instead of misery and hatred he gets stuck with this cute little girl that doesn't know any better? Come on. _Cute shit yo_. I couldn't not picture him as a clueless angel with little to no interaction with the humans, being a soldier he stayed in heaven most of the time and his uses on Earth were limited. So, yeah- enjoy!


End file.
